


The Rose Garden

by xViciousCabaretx



Category: Vampire Hunter D (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/M, One Shot, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 17:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30075456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xViciousCabaretx/pseuds/xViciousCabaretx
Summary: When his supplies run out D is forced to make an unscheduled stop. Completed One Shot
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Rose Garden

It had been eighteen days since he had run out of plasma capsules. 

His last job had been brutal, taking him all over the mountain ranges of the Northeastern Frontier. When he finally found the Noble's resting place he had already spent the better part of a week tracking him, relentlessly accosted by the mutants and beasts in the vampire's employ. 

Ultimately, D had only been able to save two of the six victims, the others having been twisted into horrible biological experiments at the hands of the Noble.

The return to Tilton's Landing had been arduous, the summer sun scorching and humidity suffocating. His two injured wards had proven to be unskilled riders and he had been forced to tether their horse to his as they went. Once they descended the mountains the group could still only move along at a brisk clip for fear of someone slipping out of the saddle. 

With the survivors delivered and his bounty collected, D inquired briefly at the local proprietor to see where he might be able to resupply his plasma rations. Not surprisingly they did not have what he sought, and directed him back across the mountains to the nearest large city. 

Now, nearly two weeks later, he began winding down the Western face of the mountains, the flat plains offering little respite from the heat of the late morning sun. 

A stream cut a shallow gully where it ran parallel to the road. D dismounted, climbing down the banks to refill his canteen. He rested in the shade of the sandstone walls for a moment, half considering stopping here for the day. 

"Can't be much further," the symbiote offered. "The old shopkeep said it would only be about four days' ride once we got over the mountains. Gimme some of that water, would you?" 

D obliged, emptying the remnants of his canteen into the tiny open mouth of the countenanced carbuncle, then refilled it from the stream once again. 

Four more days. His head swam at the prospect of four more long, sun-drenched days on the road. 

The familiar warning signs of his wretched thirst had started about ten days ago, the undeniable need swelling and festering with each passing day. His patience and fortitude were wearing thin, and he made it a point to ignore any other travelers on the road as he pressed his cyborg mount to its limits. As it was, the poor beast had busted a tension spring in its rear leg yesterday, slowing their pace to an uneasy limp.

His body felt like it was on fire, the sun beating down without and the thirst kindling within. Taking off his wide brimmed hat D knelt on the bank and dunked his head in to the stream, relishing the momentary relief before replacing his hat. He rejoined his piteous mount and continued down the road.

A few hours before sunset D came upon a large copse of fruit trees, their limbs heavy and ripe. The pleasant scent of apples and peaches permeated the air. As he rode the main thoroughfare continued West, with the farmlands leading away towards the South. A narrow, rutted wagon path connected on the left side of road, cutting through the orchards. 

D paused at the intersection, his horse nosing at an overripe apple that had rolled in to the road. 

"What do you know of this area?" he asked.

"Been a long time since I've heard of any towns in these parts," came the hoarse reply. "The late Duchess Audelia and her brood used to rule this valley, and she forbade them from settling too close to the mountains. Land disputes," he yawned. "But where there's a farm there's bound to be farmers. It's worth a shot." 

Tugging the reigns, D pulled off the road to the wagon path. Half an hour later he came across a fleet of robots harvesting the crop, their mechanical arms gathering the fruit into large plastic containers.

The sun was beginning to sink behind the tree line as D passed a small sign post, welcoming him to the village of Wellton. A few hundred yards away he saw the edge of a waist-high stone wall which separated the orchards from the town. 

No guard or watchman met him there, nor did any automated defenses lock on to him. He passed through the opening of the stone wall unencumbered and found himself walking towards a collection of farmhouses. Several workers and robots bustled about on the far side of the property, inspecting the produce and loading the acceptable pieces through a huge mechanized washer. 

Pulling off the path, he skirted along the perimeter fence as fast as he dared on his injured mount, lengthening shadows providing some cover. He managed to link up with the road again and headed in to the town proper. 

He found Wellton to be fairly populated and prosperous. Their primary industry appeared to be agriculture, as every store front boasted some kind of flowering or edible vegetation. 

Though dusk was nearly upon them the people moved about the main street unhurried. On seeing the rider in black several people paused in their conversations, lowering drinks and pipes to peer at him. 

The press of humanity about him made his parched throat ache. He clenched his jaw and rode on, ignoring the imploring stares and whispers.

D stopped in front of the general supply store, tethering his mount to the post out front. A thin, balding man leaned against the doorframe, having been chatting with an older woman. They both lapsed in to silence as he approached. The thin man pushed away from the building, wiping his hands on his apron. D halted a few yards away.

"Evenin' sir," said the man. "Can't say I've seen you around here before. What can I do for you?"

"I need supplies, and my mount requires repairs," D replied. 

The man squinted in the low light of the setting sun, trying to make out the face beneath the wide brimmed hat. "Sure enough, we've got supplies. Come on in and see what we can do for you. The ol' mechanics shop is prolly closed by now, but they can see to your horse first thing in the morning. Maggie," he said, turning to the older woman, "get on home now, and tell Bill I said hullo."

"Right," she nodded, then shuffled away, casting a furtive glance behind her as she went. The thin man motioned for him to follow and D entered the shop.

"I'm Ken Miller, and this here's my shop. What sorta supplies you looking for?" he asked, stepping behind the counter. 

The store was filled to the brim with well stocked shelves, much of the wares focused on farming and first aid. It looked promising. 

"I am a Hunter," D began as the man tried to study him once again. The gas lamps flickering overhead did little to illuminate his pale, shadowed face. 

"A Hunter, eh? You certainly look the type. Well, we don't have any jobs for you, but you'll find most of what you might need here elsewise. Trail rations, bedrolls, compressed cookery. Mr. Lee down the road has a good selection of--"

"I was told that you could find anything if you only knew where to look." 

Ken paused, his eyes hardening at the disused phrase. "Huh," he muttered, drumming his fingers on the worn service counter. "One of them, eh? Hate to tell ya but I don't have what you're looking for. There's a town about three days out that might--" 

"Thank you," D said, and made to leave. 

"Wait a second, now," Ken called after him. "You might try over at The Rose Garden. Miss Rose there ain't one to turn away a paying customer, and one of her ladies might be able to see to ya. If I can recall, there was another fella like you about six years ago come into town. Hm, or was it seven years? That's right, just about when we had that huge storm what flooded the--"

Hot, untempered frustration flared within him at the man's prattling. He didn't have time for this. "Where can I find this establishment?" he asked curtly. 

"Oh, well, just keep following this road for about half a mile, then turn left when you get to the park," he said, pointing South. "It's just behind there, can't miss it. The whole front of the place is painted with flowers."

D nodded and left without another word, quickly unhitching and mounting his horse. News would soon spread about a dhampir in town and he was in no mood to deal with any further interference. 

The ruddy twilight sky had been stained a deep purple as night drew closer. A few townspeople still milled about, closing their shops or hefting packages in to wagons. D stayed towards the center of the road, head down, the obligatorily slow pace of his mount agonizing. 

"A cat house, huh?" asked the symbiote. "Heh, been a long time since you had a bite to--"

" _Enough_ ," D said, clenching his left fist violently, eliciting a startled yelp from his hand. 

Just before the park D spotted a narrow cobble stone path to his left. It wasn't wide enough for a wagon, more suited for single riders and pedestrians. He tugged on the reigns, turning.

As full dark settled he heard a faint electric buzz and a number of street lights flickered to life, bordering the park and illuminating the path. Ahead of him he saw two young men heading in his direction, heads tucked together, faces flushed with drink and clothes askew. They past without a single glance, their voices low and full of mirth. 

He came to a crossroad, the cobblestones branching in three directions. He paused, scanning the nearby buildings. 

A calm breeze stirred the trees, scattering leaves noisily on the path. He lifted his head to the right, the sweet smell of roses having caught his nose. 

He saw the edges of a garden four buildings down, it's lush foliage forming a perimeter hedge. He followed the scent. 

The garden connected the cobblestone road to a foot path which wound it's way up to the porch of a large, two-story manor house. The front of the building had been painted with a colorful array of wild flowers, their vines and petals creeping into the eaves. 

The garden gate was open and he saw several horses hitched to a long post to the left of the porch. He dismounted, leading his mount through the garden. A fountain bubbled somewhere nearby as stray petals drifted lazily across the grass.

The boisterous sounds of a piano accompanied by male voices drifted out from the open front door. A broad, thick-necked young man emerged on to the porch, watching D as he approached. He wore a a heavy revolver on his right hip. His eyes narrowed as the Hunter stepped in to the ring of the porchlight, noting his pale skin, heavy black clothes and the longsword strapped to his back. 

He moved to the top of the porch stairs as D hitched his horse. "You a Hunter?" he asked. 

"That's right." 

The man hooked his thumbs in to the front of his belt, the fingers of his right hand resting on his gun. "What can we do for you?" 

The easy bravado of the youth made D bristle with annoyance. Another unnecessary interloper. "I have been informed that The Rose Garden may provide a specialized service to one such as myself." 

The man quirked an eyebrow, scowling. "A dhampir, you mean," he said, raising his voice. 

At the sound a handful of people moved from within to cluster around the door, their tones quieting as they spotted D. A woman in a bright yellow dress leaned over and whispered something to a red headed girl in white, who quickly retreated back inside. 

"What's going on out here?" A burly man with a huge white beard stepped forward. He wore no overcoat and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows revealing strong, tanned forearms. 

"Nothing y'all need to worry about. Head back inside and I'll see to this," said the youth, his eyes never leaving the Hunter. A frisson of tension raced through the growing crowd.

"Excuse me," came a woman's voice, rich and commanding. 

People pulled back from the doorway revealing a tall, fine boned middle aged woman. Her graying brown hair was pinned to her head in an elegant series of braids and coils. She wore a layered satin dress colored a soft, dusky pink. Behind her trailed a younger woman in a deep blue dress, her ebony locks cascading loosely over her exposed shoulders. 

"I am Miss Rose. Welcome to my garden. Please," she lifted her chin, and the young man stepped away, no longer blocking the stairs, "won't you come inside?"

The crowd watched as D ascended the porch, following Miss Rose. A few guests and girls lingered about the drawing room on couches and chairs, drinks in hand. They all stared silently as she led the dhampir into her office. 

Closing the door behind them, Miss Rose motioned to one of the black velvet armchairs in front of her desk. "Please, make yourself comfortable." 

D remained at the door. The room was full of flowers with a vase or plant on nearly every surface. He found the overwhelming aroma unpleasant, abrading his already inflamed senses. 

"You are aware of what I am, and what services I seek." 

"But of course," she replied. "And we have picked one of our most precious flowers to attend to you." She motioned to the smaller woman in blue. 

His eyes shifted to the girl. She was young, with a youthful fullness still lingering in her cheeks and rounded shoulders. The neckline of her dress was generous and lower than he typically saw on such a specialized type of professional. There were no tell-tale marks about her throat or shoulders. She didn't meet his eyes as he examined her, her lips trembling slightly. 

"She is inexperienced," he stated flatly, leveling his gaze on the Madame. 

Miss Rose's painted lips twisted in to a grimace, her demure facade vanishing. She placed one hand on the girl's lower back and pushed her forward a step. "She's all we have to offer service to your kind. If you don't like our girl you can take your business elsewhere."

Irritation nettled him, coupled with his overheated skin. He had been fortunate enough to stumble upon this town in the first place, let alone find an establishment that would cater to the needs of dhampirs. He clenched his fists, trying to force down the molten heat that scorched his throat. 

"Fine," he snapped.

"Very well," Miss Rose said. From within the folds of her skirt she produced a small electronic tablet. She entered a few quick commands, then moved to hand it to D. "Signatures required for the waiver and payment schedule. And payment will be needed up front, of course."

The verbiage was familiar, with a few added addendums regarding what would happen in the invent of undue injury. The fee quoted was high--nearly three times what he last paid in a larger city. Though, that had been well over a decade ago.

He signed, passed back the tablet, and hefted a heavy bag of coins in to Miss Rose's waiting hand. She counted the coins silently then, satisfied, tucked them away.

"Colin," Miss Rose called, her voice clipped and stern. A moment later the armed young man from before stepped in to the room, his eyes trained on D. "Please escort these two to the Blue Suite." She withdrew behind her desk then, saying, "Colin will be at hand in case any... assistance is needed. Enjoy your stay, Hunter."

D nodded. The girl brushed past him quickly, her shoulders tense, following Colin out in to the hallway. The small cluster of guests and girls had quieted in the drawing room. Wordlessly the three of them wound their way down the hall. The distinct sounds of amorous activities could be heard behind each door as they passed. 

They stopped outside the last set of doors just before the staircase. Colin fished out a key and opened the doors. The Blue Suite featured a small sitting area with two handsome blue suede couches. On the other side of the room was a well stocked bar just opposite an oversized armoire. A placard on the armoire detailed the numerous salacious contents within for patrons' usages. Another doorway lay to their left where he caught a glimpse of the bed, massive and dressed with a heavy blue duvet. 

The girl stepped in to the room, her movements slow and deliberate. 

Colin stared, unblinking, as D moved past him. He cleared his throat causing both of them to turn in his direction. "I will be right outside," he said, his voice low with warning, his right hand resting on the butt of his gun. D made no response. 

Colin stepped out and closed the door, leaving D alone with the girl. Her scent filled the room, the sweetness of her perfume tainted with a sharp undercurrent of fear. The thirst burned in him, and it was all he could do to keep the tremor from his hands as he watched her. 

She was moving away from him, crossing to the wet bar. "Can I offer you something to...?" She faltered and stopped, the words hanging in the air unfinished. 

D's eyes were once again drawn to the unmarked skin of her throat. "You have not serviced a dhampir before." 

Something in his cold, dispassionate tone made her shiver. She tried to meet his eyes but couldn't, finding their black depths both enticing and foreboding. "No, not as such. But I can assure you that I am skilled in all manner of earthly pleasures." She had meant it to sound sultry but her voice was strained and thin. An overwhelming urge to flee made her skin crawl. 

Her pulse thundered in his ears, warm body near at hand in the confines of the room. Saliva began to pool in his mouth; he swallowed thickly. 

"I will not... force you. And I will ensure that you are compensated for some of your time regardless."

Her mouth popped open, blue eyes widening. "But sir, you have already--"

"D."

"What?"

"You may call me D. What is your name?"

"Violet." 

"You don't have to do this, Violet."

She worried at her bottom lip, wrapping her arms about her waist. He was offering her a way out. But if she failed to entertain another guest she would surely be punished. She was still earning the least of all the girls, with no regular clients to speak of. And she was on thin ice ever since the incident with the sheriff's son in law last month. It was doubtful that Miss Rose would allow another screw up, especially with such a high paying customer. 

She couldn't afford to refuse him.

The quiet humiliation of the situation made her want to cry. As it was she felt unwanted tears sting her eyes. 

"I see," D said. He turned to leave. 

"Please wait!" she called. The Hunter froze, his back still to her. "You don't have to--I can, um," she stopped, lowering her voice. "It would be my pleasure to service you, D." 

The honeyed words rang hollow but he was unable to suppress the shudder that they incited. He knew he should leave now, walk away from this unwilling girl. With the accursed thirst raging in him he was unsure how much longer he would be able to retain his composure.

His hand reached for the doorknob. 

The girl gasped, running to him and grabbing the back of his cloak. "Please don't leave," she blurted. Cool grey eyes turned to her and she dropped her hand, a flush spreading across her cheeks. 

"I'm sorry," she said, smoothing her skirt. She relaxed her shoulders, a tight smile pulling at her rouged lips. "Would you like to have a seat? Or perhaps you would prefer to adjourn to the other room?" She gestured to the bedroom, dark hair spilling over her shoulders as she turned, baring the pale column of her throat. 

The sharp points of his fangs began to dig in to his bottom lip. He watched her silently as she brought her hand to rest on his arm. She tugged gently, trying to guide him towards the bedroom. 

"No," he said, removing his arm from her grasp. Though the fee he paid had included such a service he would not subject this girl to the frenzied, carnal lusts of his vampiric nature. 

Before she could speak D took off his hat and placed it on the back of the nearest couch. "Sit down," he instructed. She complied, spreading out her skirt as she sat, her back straight but posture relaxed. 

With his wide brimmed hat removed she was able to admire his unobscured beauty. He was young, maybe a few years older than her; though, she supposed, that could just be an illusion of his Noble blood. His brows were high and graceful, accented by an aquiline nose and strong jaw. Black hair framed his face and she could make out the tops of pointed ears hidden beneath. His dark eyes were lined with thick, lovely lashes. 

She continued to stare, losing herself in his serene visage as he moved to stand over her. Her reverie was abruptly cut short then as he extended his hand, a small sheathed knife laying on his open palm. 

She stilled, her face clouding with uncertainty as she looked from the knife to the Hunter. "What...?" 

"You are unarmed, correct?"

She nodded mutely. She had glimpsed the tips of his fangs as he spoke. Her gut roiled sourly, her hands gripping in to the material of her skirt. 

"Take it, if you'd like." 

She didn't move. "How do you... want me to use it?" He could hear the panicked edge in her voice as her pulse increased. 

"It is not necessary for you to use it. But having it may make you feel better." 

She wasn't a fool. She knew that he was only offering this weapon for her sake, and that she probably wouldn't be able to do any real damage to a man his size, let alone a dhampir. 

Or maybe it was a part of a game? Nobles were renowned for their savagery, delighting in toying with their human prey. Was he testing her somehow?

She slowly reached to pick up the knife with one unsteady, damp hand. He relinquished the blade, his own hand dropping away. 

She gripped the knife in her lap. As D turned to unstrap the sword from his back she quickly unsheathed it to inspect the blade. It was approximately four inches long, the steel polished and keenly edged. She resheathed it, finding the hilt fit easily in her small hand. Some tension eased out of her spine as she set the knife down beside her on the couch. 

He was relieved to hear her breathing slow as she settled back against the couch cushions. Her racing pulse and wide-eyed stare had stoked his predator instincts making it difficult to focus. 

Humans naturally feared and loathed vampires and their descendants, but the majority were fortunate enough to go their whole lives without encountering one. This girl probably never imagined she would be locked in a room with a thirsty dhampir. Her reticence was to be expected.

D leaned his sword against the arm of couch. She studied him as he sat down next to her, a respectful arm's length away. His eyes were downcast, beautiful lashes brushing his cheek. The air around him felt cool and somber. When he finally raised his gaze to meet hers she saw a flicker of something there, bestial and hungry. 

Her right hand reached for the knife reflexively.

"Violet," he murmured, his voice deep and beckoning. The sound made her quiver, a flash of heat radiating from her head to settle in the pit of her stomach. A faint blush tinted her cheeks.

She took a deep breath, pleasantly surprised by the spiced scent that came from the Hunter. His pale, smooth skin looked like porcelain in the lamplight of the suite. She wondered what it would feel like to touch. 

He watched as her pupils dilated, her thin pressed lips relaxing into an easy smile. He rarely used his aura in this manner, preferring to push others away rather than lure them in. But it was the least he could do to make this experience easier for her.

She lifted one delicate hand, reaching for his face, her brows raised in silent question. He nodded, and felt her soft fingers trace over the curve of his cheekbone, trailing along the jawline to his chin. Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip, her skin hot and tempting. He shuddered, savoring the sensation. His fangs ached in anticipation. 

She shifted in her seat next him, closing the distance between them to press herself against his side. She brought up her other hand to his chest, putting her head on his shoulder and taking in that enchanting, heady scent as her left hand slid in to his hair. 

"D," she breathed, her lips trailing a kiss down his neck. 

Suddenly, D went rigid under her touch. He removed her hands and turned away from her. His bloodlust had flared sending hot, hungry shockwaves through his body. He could feel his lips curling into a vicious snarl, baring his fangs. 

As his aura eddied around her Violet was confused by the sudden change in the air. The Hunter had pushed her away even as their bodies called out for each other. 

"D?" she called, her hand sliding up along the steel muscles of his back. 

"Close your eyes," he commanded. His voice was almost unrecognizable, hoarse and inhumanly low. 

The sound made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, resonating somewhere deep within her. She dropped her hand, shivering as a rush of adrenaline flooded her veins. Still, the aura held her in place, its invisible tendrils wrapping around her possessively. 

She closed her eyes. 

A moment later she felt his cool, iron hands reach for her, racing up around her shoulders to cradle him against his chest. Her heart hammered mercilessly in her chest, but was it fear or excitement that made it do so? 

His long fingers brushed her lengthy tresses aside, baring her neck and shoulders in the dim light. He tipped her head back, his hands supporting her, and she felt his lips on her throat. 

A raw spike of terror jolted her and her eyes flew open. She saw his raven hair gleaming against the pale skin of his cheek. His head was bent to the crook of her neck, obscuring his face. 

His mouth was searingly hot, lips moving restlessly. He traced his tongue along a taut tendon and her breath choked off in her throat as she felt the sharp points of his fangs scrape against her skin. 

She gasped and brought her hands up, trying to grip his shoulders, scrabbling, pushing. "Please no," she whimpered.

He crushed her to his chest, his spicy scent flooding her head once again as his hand fisted in to her hair. Her trembling limbs stilled and she sighed, relaxing in to the dhampir's embrace. 

"I'm sorry," he said bitterly, his dark voice muffled against her skin. His lips found her thundering pulse and he sunk his fangs in, sucking greedily.

She froze at the intense sudden pain, her fingers clutching the Hunter's shirt and hair. 

He allowed himself to revel in the savage sensation of biting into flesh and muscle for just a moment before withdrawing his fangs, lips clamping over the wound. It bled freely, coating his tongue and filling his mouth. He drank desperately, the rich mouthfuls quelling the monstrous fire that had burned him ruthlessly for days. 

Violet moaned, her hands encircling his waist as she leaned in to him. His scent drowned her and she yearned for his touch on her flushed skin. The movements of his tongue on her throat left her wet and trembling, a pleasant ache throbbing in her loins.

He pulled on her lifeline for a while longer, noting when she began to grow listless in his arms. Licking the wound one final time he released her, laying her back gently on the couch. Her lashes were damp but she wore a heated, content expression. She relinquished her hold on him languidly, sighing as she closed her eyes. 

She soon fell asleep there on the blue suede couch. He checked her breathing and pulse, finding them slow but strong. D grabbed a pillow from the bed and propped it beneath her head, pushing a loose lock hair away from her face. 

He gathered his hat and sword, donning them as he watched her rest. The wound had begun to clot and a faint rosy glow lingered on her cheeks. From one of his pouches he produced five thick, gold coins--the total value of which would be approximately ten times what had been paid to the Madame--and deposited them into the pocket of her skirt. 

With that, D exited in to the hall. 

Colin leaned against the wall opposite the door, straightening as the Hunter emerged, his hand flying to his holster. 

"Leaving so soon?" he asked. His thumb rested on the hammer of his gun as he craned his neck, trying to peer around the Hunter into the room. "Where is she?" 

Silently, D stepped aside, letting Colin slip past him. He found Violet there and looked her over briefly, feeling her pulse. Her grimaced as he spotted the marks on her throat. 

"Violet?" he said, shaking one shoulder. She murmured a sleepy response, shifting but not quite waking. Colin huffed, standing, and looked at the Hunter. "What are you still doing here?" 

Making no response D turned and left, ignoring the two giggling girls that called after him as he crossed the drawing room. Stepping out on to the porch he saw his cyborg mount leaning against the hitching post, favoring its injured leg. 

He grabbed the lead and climbed in to the saddle. The quiet stillness of the night was punctuated occasionally with bawdy laughter and the sounds of pleasure spilling from the windows of the establishment. 

He looked over the mural on the building's facade, his eyes drawn to a small bouquet of blue flowers wreathed in greenery. With his composure restored he felt the creeping black fingers of guilt begin to pull at him. She would bear his marks for the rest of her life, the memory of tonight little more than a fever dream in her mind. 

"Come on now, D," the hoarse voice needled. "We haven't got all night. Gotta find a place to rest." 

"No," D replied. A cool breeze swept through the park, rustling through the garden. The girl's blood flowed in his veins, invigorating him. He hadn't indulged in fresh blood in many, many years. His body practically hummed with energy. 

He tugged on the horse's reigns, steering it back towards the main road. "We will make better time if we ride through the night."

They set off under the moonlight, the faint scent of flowers hanging in the air.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this piece, I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I have been re-reading all of the VHD books and manga over the last year and have rekindled my pre-teen obsession. This story idea came to me in a haze at 2am and I just had to get it all out. I am currently working on two other VHD fics and will have them posted soon.
> 
> I do take requests should you have any, and am looking forward to your responses and reviews.
> 
> xo, ViciousCabaret


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